


A Theo-logical Dilemma

by LightofEvolution



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, Co-workers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-09-07 14:04:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20310736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightofEvolution/pseuds/LightofEvolution
Summary: “Draco, Miss Granger is yelling at the dog in the tea room. What did he do?” Narcissa asked.“Maybe he ate her reports?” he suggested, knowing it wasn’t true.A little story about Hermione, Draco, and a black Labrador with a very human pedigree.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [niffizzle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/niffizzle/gifts).

> Hi! Welcome to this little story. It's a (late birthday) gift for niffizzle because she told me that I just had to write a Dramione involving a Labrador named Theo. After all, I have a black Labrador named Theo lol. And because she is a wonderful, patient, encouraging, and fantastic human being and beta, I did it.
> 
> The story is completely written and has five chapters in total.
> 
> Alpha cheerleader love to mcal for her persistent encouragment and endless beta love to niffizzle because I made her beta her gift.
> 
> Everything belongs to JKR and associates (except for the black Lab who is MINE), and no money is made out of this.

Draco was beginning to think that their research would be all for naught. 

That he would be stuck with this dog for the next several years. Did wizarding dogs have a longer lifespans than Muggle dogs? Was there even a difference? And if there was, did it apply to wizards-stuck-in-dog-Animagus form? His colleague would probably know, but he didn’t dare asking her. 

Sighing, he put Blaise’s letter in his desk and rededicated his concentration to the case file in front of him. He didn’t know how long he read, half-amused, half-horrified by the report of spontaneously combusting toilets, when a dulcet voice snapped him out of it.

“Draco! I called your name three times already!”

Draco finally looked up and into the amazing, brown eyes of his Auror partner.

“Pardon me, Hermione,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “I’m having a weird day. What did you ask?” 

“I said I brought your order from the Magical Menagerie. I was there buying some treats for Crooks when I saw your name scribbled on a package, so I offered to deliver it.” 

She smiled at him in a way that Draco knew she was fidgeting with curiosity just below the surface.

“I didn’t know you have a familiar,” she finally asked. “Who did you buy treats for? An owl? A kneazle? A toad?” Her huge eyes were scrutinising him, and he felt warm under the collar all of a sudden. She had the talent to look right into his soul; at least, that’s how it felt.

“A friend,” he couldn’t help answering before correcting himself, “No, a dog!”

“A dog friend?”

“Yes, that’s what I said, wasn’t it? A dog friend.”

“Awwww, how cute!” Her blissful smile turned his insides into a hot mess of flobberworm goo. “Why didn’t you tell me you got a puppy?” Hermione sat down on the edge of his desk, minding the organised stacks of paperwork as she did so. 

Draco tried to put on a cool facade. “Well, it isn’t a puppy. Technically, he isn’t even mine.”

“Tell me more!” she cooed. “I love dogs. When I grew up, we had a Labrador Retriever named Minnie. She was the sweetest being on Earth and loved cuddles,” Hermione reminscened. 

That, in turn, made him proud of her as he was fully cognizant of how difficult it was to talk about her past, when her parents were still aware of who she was and not some foreign pair of dentists in Australia. 

“Minnie?” He raised an eyebrow, amused. 

She laughed at his expression, and the sound of it made his insides quite fluttery. “Yes, I know. Imagine how hard it was when Professor McGonagall came into our Potions classroom one day in second year, and told Snape something in hushed voices, and he said, ‘Minnie, I told you Lockhart is bad news!’ I had to feign a cough attack I was laughing so hard!”

Draco chuckled. “I swear, Severus secretly had a crush on her!”

“So when do I get to meet him?”

“Who?” he asked, somewhat distracted by her perfect behind on his desk. 

“The dog, Malfoy!” she teased.

“Oh! I don’t think you’ll meet him at all,” he rushed to insert. “As I said, he isn’t even mine. I’m just keeping an eye on him while Blaise is on a research mission.” 

That was true to the letter. Blaise  _ was _ on a research mission - just not for his employer, Malfoy Potions. He was off trying to find a way to get rid of their  _ canine problem _ . 

“That’s quite generous of you,” Hermione beamed. “Especially since Blaise can’t have owned him for very long. We had coffee just a few weeks ago, and he didn’t mention anything about a new pet.”

“You had coffee with Blaise?” was all Draco filtered from Hermione’s words.

She grinned and hopped off the desk. “It was just coffee, you overprotective partner. I am a free witch, am I not? 

Yes, she was, Draco had to agree with her. But wasn’t it his job as friend and partner to care for her well-being? 

Even if that friendship was firmly wrapped around a huge crush.

* * *

Said (secret) crush came to visit about three weeks later.

And the dog was still there. 

“You are going to stay away from the library this evening. Is that clear?” Draco asked the black Labrador. 

The dog let his head fall on its front paws, as if he were pouting.

Though, Draco knew that he really  _ was _ pouting. 

“Theo, come on,” Draco implored. “You know she is smart. Excruciatingly so. And if you don’t behave exactly like a dog is supposed to, she could find out about your situation — something you desperately want to avoid.”

Theo whimpered.

Draco huffed. “I know, you are desperate for some company other than me and Blaise. But you brought yourself into this situation, and you have to have some patience so we can find a way out.” 

With a strict glare, he closed the door to the East Wing, confining poor Theo to this limited space.

* * *

As much as Draco tried not to be a strict pet owner, he knew it was necessary tonight. For Theo was, in fact, not a simple, although beautiful, Labrador Retriever. 

He was Theodore Nott, heir to one of the most prestigious wizarding families (though not as old or noble as the Malfoys or the Blacks, old Walburga’s portrait never grew tired of mentioning). 

And he was very much stuck in an Animagus form he didn’t find very pleasing.

Making his way through the long corridors of Malfoy Manor, Draco recalled how shocked his friend had been when Blaise had initially shown him his dog reflection in a mirror. 

To be honest, this wasn’t the first time the three friends’ experiments had gone wrong. But it  _ was _ the first time the effect had been so lasting and seemingly irreversible. 

What had started after the war to keep the boys entertained and distracted, quickly became a regular occurence. No longer boys and now grown wizards, Blaise, Theo, and Draco met monthly to do some magical experimenting. Sometimes, they tried to brew the newest Potion from Potion Monthly; other times, they solved harmless Aritmanthy riddles. And one night, they played around with the Animagus magic. 

Which somehow resulted in Theo being unable to change back into his human form and Blaise and Draco first in howls of laughter and then in bouts of panic because nothing they did reversed it. 

Communicating with Labrador Theo wasn’t easy, especially when he couldn’t use his voice — not to mention his lacking coordination of his four legs in the beginning. Draco was very talented at Legilimency, but it only worked properly with humans. At least he could catch his friend’s general mood and emotions. 

He tried to shake the frustrated thoughts when he approached the library. After all, he needed to check if everything was prepared for his meeting with Hermione. Books set up, quill sharpened, tea and whiskey, each at the perfect temperature, placed on a small table next to the fireplace. 

Optimistically, he planned this to be more than a work meeting. 

Enthusiastically, he prayed for a kiss on the cheek or a slight blush on the face of the witch he adored. 

Realistically, he knew he would enjoy every minute of her presence, even if it stayed all friendly and professional between them. 

Pushing the massive doors of the library open, Draco began to saunter into the room feeling confident. But he stopped dead in his tracks when he looked into it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the response to this story; it makes me really happy.
> 
> Also a huge thanks to my beta niffizzle. You should check out her story "A Proposal of Sorts" which includes an irresitible cliché! Another thank you to mcal for being such a sweet and kind human.
> 
> Oh, and maybe I should mention that if you're expecting a broody, cool, and badass Draco - this isn't the story for you. Draco is pretty smitten here and acts like it.

“Granger!” Draco exclaimed, surprised.

Hermione sat in his armchair in front of the fireplace, legs folded under her body with some ancient tome on her lap. Her shoes weren’t anywhere to be seen.

Something in Draco’s stomach churned, wanting to preserve this picture. 

“Hey!” She smiled at him, not moving an inch. 

“You’re early!”

“And you’re surprised to see me,” she deadpanned drily. ”Shall I leave so you can let me in in whatever old-fashioned way you imagined?”

“I am only surprised because the Manor’s wards are supposed to be impenetrable if one isn’t let in from an inhabitant,” Draco explained, his manners kicking in when he automatically poured some tea from the nearby tea table. 

“Are they? To be honest, it wasn’t even difficult to get through them.”

Draco raised one eyebrow suspiciously. For almost a thousand years, the Malfoy family home had stood strong, facing all kinds of dangers. It had lowered its protections at the owners’ will, even when they let in the devil himself, as Draco could testify. But it only acted on its own on two occasions: when it updated the tapestry and the wards once an heir had been conceived, and when a new Lady of the House entered.

Discombobulated, Draco knew these two options couldn’t possibly be true in this scenario. The first he’d definitely remember (admittedly, it has been a while since any witch had seen his private heirloom in action). The second - well, it was simply out of the question. 

Shaking the implications from his head like a dog with water from its ears, he mumbled something like, “I have to repair these wards sooner or later.” 

Hermione smiled at him, and he went on, “Well, it certainly looks like you made yourself at home.” 

“Is that a problem? I am sorry if-” she started, but Draco made a hand gesture that stopped her.

“Not at all. I was simply surprised to be greeted with such a…  _ picturesque _ view.” 

Grey eyes caught brown, and he swore her cheeks pinked a bit. 

Immediately, he cleared his throat, not allowing himself to be distracted by fantasies of coming home to this perfect picture of coziness. “Nevertheless, we have work to do, even if the Manor’s house elves can provide some distracting refreshments.” 

He poured himself a generous portion of Firewhisky.Just one, though. After all, they really had work to do. 

They had agreed to meet in his home library because the case they were working on demanded information slightly outside of the official Ministry archives and literature. Their team was a highly successful one, his pureblood breeding slash Death Eater past combined with her intelligence slash Order of the Phoenix membership had started as an experiment. After two years, they ranked as experts for special cases among the Ministry and the Minister himself. Potter was the poster boy while they did the real work, as Draco had noticed with no small amount of satisfaction. 

“You’re thinking about Harry.”

“Pardon me?”

“You had this faraway glance in your eyes. The triumphant one you always have when you’re thinking about how you bested Harry, like when the track records of the department are published,” Hermione smugly said.

Thankfully, in this moment, Draco’s signature wit had decided to return. “You must have observed me a lot to recognise that.” He coaxed his lips into the characteristic Malfoy smirk and added a wink for good measure. This tactic had opened him a lot of bedroom doors in the past. 

But Hermione had always been immune to that, so he knew this was all in good fun. At least, that’s what he thought until she pushed some errant curls behind her ear in a gesture he knew indicated a certain amount of nervousness. 

The moment of… whatever was gone when she threw a ball of parchment at him. 

He dodged it, Seeker and Auror skills and all, and started laughing. “It seems you have started without me.” He pointed at the tome in her lap.

Presently, they were working on a case of a black widow. The unknown witch lured rich wizards into her trap, using different names and appearances to attract and bind them. And as soon as the ink had tried on the new husband’s last will, the Galleon-loaded men met an ‘accidental’ death. 

These circumstances alone wouldn’t have brought the Auror team into Malfoy Manor’s inner sanctum, but the fact that Draco causally had mentioned something about the extensive collection of dark object literature since the ninth century might have led Hermione into asking if she could have a look at it. 

So far, Draco’s home had been some kind of taboo for them. He never mentioned it in detail, never referred to it by name, never talked about its ancient, but in some parts tainted, past. To see her now, very relaxed in his armchair, seemingly uncaring that her last visit had brought her psychological and physiological scars? It made Draco feel like pumpkin pudding. 

“Started without you? Not really. I just found some interesting books I spent my time procrastinating with.” She held up a book about Animagi and one named ‘My Malfoy - My Menace - My Manor. Marrying into the Malfoy Family’. 

Draco prayed to Merlin that she hadn’t yet reached the chapter about the quite sentient wards inside the Manor.

“May I offer you a biscuit?” he asked instead and thus relieved her from the book. Because obviously, Hermione would never eat or drink while working with books or parchments. Imagine the shame if there was suddenly a tea stain on the Statue of Secrecy? She used to reprimand Draco whenever they spent hours of research in the Archives of the Ministry. 

About two hours later, they had settled into a comfortable atmosphere of cooperative working. Hermione, to Draco’s disappointment, had left the armchair and settled down at a proper desk, eye in eye to his own. Though, he had observed proudly, she had been very impressed with the fact that the Malfoy library was not only perfectly organised, but also provided professional work spaces. 

She sighed loudly, gathering his attention with the sound. 

“Okay, I think we could compare results now. This black widow” — she stopped to twist her hair into a messy bun and stick her wand into it — “is a historical phenomenon. Do you agree?”

“Absolutely. I found mentions of what I think could be her tactic over at least three centuries, starting in the late fifteenth.” He pointed at several hand-written books. “The span of time we’re talking about leads to the conclusion that it’s not one witch we are talking about but something like a legacy.”

Hermione made an agreeing noise. “Exactly my thoughts. My theory is that there is some object-”

She was interrupted by a loud scratching on the door. 

Draco groaned inwardly. 

The scratching continued. 

“Draco, is there someone scratching on the door?” Hermione asked, probably not believing someone could have the audacity to damage a part of a library. 

Draco groaned outwardly. 

“I know exactly who that is.” With a fast stride, he reached the door. He opened it only a fraction to give the individual on the other side a good scolding.

Apparently, an Animagus Labrador was faster than a wizard when it came to wriggling through doors. 

“Hi!” Hermione exclaimed in a voice Draco knew was reserved for pets. And babies. “Hello, handsome! Come here!”

The dog didn’t need any encouragement. He ran towards the bushy haired witch all on his own. 

“Theo!” Draco seethed. “I told you to stay in the East wing!” He strode to where Hermione sat and pointed at the door, knowing very well that Theo had understood him the first time. 

“Oh, Draco, it’s okay, really. In fact, I had hoped to meet him when we scheduled this meeting.” 

Brown eyes peered up to him, the gaze soft, and he couldn’t find any aspiration to fight her. 

“And he’s such a good boy, isn’t he?” she said, concentrating on the dog now. Who had placed his head in her lap and glanced up at her with wide, seemingly innocent eyes. But innocence, Draco knew, wasn’t a popular word in Theo Nott’s dictionary. 

“Not exactly,” Draco commented drily, pouring himself another, very generous Firewhisky. Inwardly, he was seething with... he wasn’t entirely sure, but probably this feeling was called jealousy. 

“Oh, yes, he is! Right, pumpkin?” Hermione rubbed Theo’s ears, and he showed his appreciation by burying his head in her lap and making grunting noises. When he got very close to the place Draco considered his in the most erotic dreams, Hermione gently pushed the snout away. “No, Theo, not there! What’s Draco supposed to think of me if I let a Theo burrow his head between my legs?” 

Then, the vixen called Hermione Granger winked at him.

Draco swallowed heavily. What was this supposed to mean? He forced himself to breathe. Slowly. Then he took another gulp of his drink. Again: the breathing thing.

Usually, it was him who winked. Playfully, seductively, teasingly - depending on the context, it was all three. How the Hades should he react? 

*****

Thankfully, he was saved from answering, because just when he wanted to reply something intelligent like, `Why don’t you let me take his place between your legs?’ or ‘I gave up thinking when you winked at me,’ a House Elf appeared with a discreet, plopping sound. 

“Master, Mistress.” The tiny creature he suspected whose name he knew since childhood but had forgotten, now bowed to him and Hermione. “It is time for the Master’s belly rub.”

Draco swore time stood still for about ten seconds. 

Then, the witch of his wet dreams started laughing hysterically. “Draco, please enlighten me. Have you really assigned a House Elf to give you a belly rub at designated times?” She doubled over in laughter, bringing Theo’s nose in comfortable proximity to nudge her bosom with his nose. 

“No!” Draco exclaimed, just a bit too loudly. Hermione’s and Theo’s eyes darted in his direction. “No, of course not,” he continued much calmer. “It’s time for the dog’s evening belly rub, isn’t it,  _ pumpkin _ ?” 

Hermione’s lips curled into an adorable smile, and Theo’s features darkened if that was even possible for a black Lab. 

“Aw, that is so cute!” She patted the dog’s head and stood. “Which reminds me of a certain half-kneazle that has to be taken care of. It’s so late already.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Draco said, on safe territory once more. He didn’t want Hermione to leave, but he didn’t want Theo to stay in the room, either. 

“Absolutely,” Hermione agreed. “Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I really think it helps us move forward.”

Unexpectedly, surprisingly, and oh, so wonderfully, Hermione wrapped him in the type of hug he had seen her giving only her closest friends - full body contact, arms thrown around his neck and waist. “I’m leaving you to your temporary pet owner duties now while I tend to mine. We’re going to continue this, right?”

Confidently, Draco nodded. There was so much more to explore. 

In his library.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To call a dog "pumpkin" is probably an American thing. But when LondonsLegend visited a bit ago and called my Lab Theo "pumpkin", he loved it sooooo...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the response to this story; reviews, following, favourites, they all make me very happy.
> 
> Without niffizzle, not a word of this story would exist.
> 
> Without mcal, the fandom would be a lot less lovable.

However, as soon as Hermione left, Theo wasn’t in for a belly rub but rather a good chastising from Draco.

“You pervert!” he growled at the dog. “How can you behave like that?”

Theo looked at him, saying nothing. Not that surprising.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m referring to!” Draco scolded. “Even though I know there’s nothing sexual about it for you, you pushed your head into her lap like… I don’t know… like she is one of the women I used to entertain. But Theo,” — he stopped his ranting and gracefully sat down on the sofa — “she is not. She’s my most useful colleague.”

Something in his voice must have given his real intentions away because the dog emitted a half-bark, eerily close to the huffing sound Theo had perfected as a human. 

“It doesn’t mean anything if you believe me or not, Bat Ears.” Draco wasn’t entirely ready to admit his crush on Granger out loud. It had been hard enough for himself to accept that this witch, the woman he had fought over one thing or another with since they were children, had first gained his respect, then his admiration, then his friendship, and finally, his heart (and libido). 

Bat Ears, a pet name for the Labrador Theo, now jumped on the couch and curled himself up right next to Draco. 

The blond wizard didn’t need to look at the dog to see that he was facing away from him, nor did he need to use Legilimency to read his friend’s emotions. They had pursued this behavioural pattern ever since the war, Draco, Theo, and Blaise. If someone needed some simple acts of affection, they’d just sit very close to the other, but never look at them directly. Then, gestures of affection were provided without commenting on or making fun of it. That could mean a hug, a shoulder to lean on, even a wholly platonic kiss to the temple.

Right here, right now, Draco rested his hand on the dog’s back, gently patting him, before letting his fingers wander up to his head where he gave the ears a soft massage. 

They sat like this for about an hour, the grandfather clock ticking in the background, the fire crackling comfortingly. Then, when he went to bed, Draco dreamt of inviting Granger to a date - and ending up throwing the ball for Theo in the Manor’s garden, her laughter ringing through the air that bore scents of summer. 

Not the worst dream, he had to admit. 

* * *

The next time Draco had Hermione over at the Manor wasn’t on date circumstances, unfortunately. 

Instead, she Apparated them directly into the library, one arm stabilising Draco’s weight, the other around his shoulders. 

He was bleeding and  _ not _ happy about it. The house elves complained and demanded extra fees when they had to clean up blood stains. 

“Why did… here?” he slurred, not running on hundred percent after being hit with some obscure curse. “Mungopital?” 

“I didn’t take you to St. Mungo’s because the last time I brought you in with a work injury, they had no idea what to do, sent you home with a pain potion, and you ironically vomited up slugs for a month every time you used the word ‘fuck,’ which was embarrassingly often!”

Draco wasn’t entirely sure if his eyes betrayed him, but he was pretty sure that Hermione had deposited him on a sofa and was now pursuing the shelves of his ancient family library, her curls swinging after her. 

“Beautiful…” he sighed, not caring about the ringing sound in his ears and that the warmth in his belly was probably the blood leaving his body in alarming amounts. 

“Keep talking, Malfoy, keep talking so I know you’re still alive,” the witch ordered, still running her finger over the backs of the books, perhaps searching for something. 

And talk Draco did. “Smart. Sooooo intelligent it scares me. Annoying. But that turns me on. Don’t know why.”

She snorted.

“Maybe I just like being ordered around by Hermione Granger. Don’t know. Shitty childhood in some aspects.”

“Are you trying to compare your cursed childhood to Harry’s?” she commented, and he heard a book being pulled from a shelf. 

“Noooo… never hungry.” He tried to lift his head and look at her. “But he’s like your brother. And I am feeling like decidedly-” He felt the darkness engulfing him. But the last thing he saw before blacking out was the sight of Hermione, bending over him with a thick tome in her hand. “-Not.”

* * *

The next time he could formulate a clear thought, Draco was surprised about the warmth he felt. And that wasn’t due to the embarrassing way he had acted around the woman he had a crush on. 

Instead, the warmth originated from his front and his back… he pried his eyes open and spotted… darkness. No, not darkness… something with a black colour and a bit of structure. 

He blinked and tried to gather his wits. “Theo?” he croaked. 

His answer was the sound of what he presumed was a tail flapping on a cushioned surface. Then, something wet moved over his face, and he knew for sure that it was his friend, licking his face like dogs did sometimes.

“He hasn’t moved from your side the entire night,” the source of warmth from behind him said. Hermione, he realised with soothing certainty. “Not since I let him into the library after the worst was over. Cuddled right into your side, the cute boy.”

“Just like you?” his voice was still hoarse, but he managed to make it sound like a question at least. 

“Of course not!” she stated, and it almost sounded like a defense. “I showered first. Your elves kindly showed me to the bathroom and where to find some clothes that fit me.”

Draco grinned, quite enjoying this state of consciousness where he was listening actively but not properly awake enough to share his reaction to the circumstances the witch behind him had just shared, namely that the Manor conjured her clothes she would feel comfortable in and essentially prepared a nest for the next Mistress to feel at home. 

He threw an arm behind him sluggishly, somehow finding his arm to rest on Hermione’s waist region. With the other arm, he pulled the black Lab further into him before falling asleep again. Perfectly comfortable. 

* * *

_ Thump! _

Draco awoke with a start when something heavy landed on his ribcage and legs.

“Theo, _ no _ !” a usually so dulcet voice chastised. “ _ Down _ !”

The weight left him, and he could breathe again. He opened his eyes, no longer feeling like a herd of drugged hippogriffs had taken residency in his head. Well, at least he recognised he was in the library still. 

“Theo, that wasn’t nice! Draco isn’t entirely okay yet. You have to be careful with him even when you mean well.” 

Hermione stood in front of the sitting dog, one hand propped up on her hip, the other pointing at his position on the couch. Theo looked up to her with adoration, totally smitten with the enigmatic witch. 

Draco was all too familiar with that emotion. “He’s too energetic sometimes when it comes to handsome wizards like me,” he spoke. 

Hermione immediately turned towards him, and her smile at seeing him awake made him almost faint again. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

She sat down on the couch, just inches from his legs.

“Great.” Then, she slapped him on the shoulder. “You scared me! Dodge when a dark curse comes at you, you idiot!”

Draco grinned. “Maybe I just wanted to get you into my library again.”

“You’re such a flirt, aren’t you?” she teased, but he could see how much she had been scared for him. 

On an impulse, he grabbed her hand, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. His form of comfort.

She looked down on their fingers, and Draco almost pulled back when she asked, “So, what you said last night… about your… feeling towards me-”

“Yes? What about them?” he asked back, his heart beating in his throat. Should he answer with the truth and get it off his chest? Knowing she’d probably let him down, if gently. 

“How serious were you about them?” Her gaze flittered to his eyes, only to be directed at the bookshelves again. “On a scale of zero to ten, with zero being a not-even-friendship level and ten being the serious-relationship-including-bringing-them-to-Christmas-at-their-parents level?”

He thought about the answer, but only briefly. She deserved an honest response, even if that meant a period of heartbreak for him. And she’d never let him down professionally due to it, of that he was certain. 

“The ‘knocking on McGonagall’s door during her whiskey time for you’ level.” His heart leapt to a point somewhere between his toes when she looked at him with a surprised expression. Surprised, but not shocked, he observed. And when he added, “So a thirteen, probably,” her lips curled into a relieved smile.

“That’s… good,” she said.

“Good? Hermione, please,” he countered, exaggerating. “You really should thank me on your knees and-”

She snorted, and he loved it. “Oh, shut up, you arrogant dolt.”

And then, she pressed her lips onto his. 

It was heaven. Her lips were soft, and she had her favourite perfume on and made this happy noise when he gasped and-

-That was the exact moment Theo decided to appear from out of nowhere and jump on the sofa. Suddenly demanding the exact space between them, he nudged them both with his wet nose. 

Obviously, that action interrupted the kiss, but Hermione only laughed.

Still, Draco glared at Theo. How dare he interrupt the most perfect moment?   
  


Tomorrow, Draco would make an appointment for his dog. At the Muggle vet.

_ Someone _ needed his balls removed. 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wohooo! I am slightly delirious over the feedback you grace me with. Really, thank you so much!
> 
> Beta love to niffizzle (really, beta'ing for me is quite a challenge and she just rocks it!) and alpha love to mcal (a gift to the fandom, not kidding here).

The kiss changed things significantly between Draco and Hermione. Or maybe it was just his vivid imagination, but it certainly felt like it.

She blushed when he complimented her. He had always done it, partly because he was a gentleman and partly because Hermione Granger was a witch that deserved compliments for many things. But now, when he whispered into her ear how much he liked her perfume, the tips of her ears turned pink, and when he explained in meetings how much progress they made in most of their cases largely due to her brilliance, her cheeks started to glow. 

She was like a magnet to him. Not usually the touchy-feely sort of man, he always found an excuse to touch her. Not intimately - yet - but he casually flung an arm around her shoulders when they went to lunch. Placed a hand on the small of her back when he escorted her to meetings. Corrected her duelling stance in training, because the duelling stance was the one thing in which he actually excelled her. Though, standing behind her, arms around her and her body just an inch or so away from his, put his self control to a very hard test. 

Two long, work-filled weeks after the kiss, they had the chance to return to their Black Widow case again. And this time, it was Hermione who suggested they meet in his library. 

“It provides us with better sources, doesn’t it? And I’d like to meet Theo again.”

Draco didn’t mention that she was welcome at Malfoy Manor literally any time. Hell, that he’d rather have her stay there permanently than see her leave!  _ And _ that the house had obviously chosen her as the next Lady Malfoy. 

Instead, he replied, “Of course. Just make sure you have something with which to distract him.”

“Distract him?”   
  


“Yes. I won’t let him interrupt any important...research again,” he said, hoping he made his intentions clear.

“Oh.  _ Oh _ !” She blushed. And Draco suddenly felt very hot under the collar. “No, we can’t have that.”

* * *

Her lips were on his the second she Apparated into his library the next day. 

No greeting, no asking for Theo. She simply dropped her bag and bridged the short gap between them.

He slipped a hand around the back of her neck; the other arm wandered around her waist and pulled her even closer. 

When their tongues touched for the first time, Draco felt as if the had channeled his first spell through a wand for the first time. 

He couldn’t fathom how long they were lost in each other’s presence. 

It was a blissful sea of stepping on toes and awkward laughs and diving into her personal space. 

In retrospect, it was all very innocent. When a house elf appeared with an intentionally loud pop, their lips were red and puffed, her curls were even messier than usual, and his  _ reading glasses _ were askew - but their clothes still were very much on their bodies. 

“Master Theo has been scratching on the library doors for at least four and a half minutes,” the tiny elf stated, voice full of contempt because Draco obviously hadn’t fulfilled his role as Master of the Manor, and they despised that. 

“Has he? Oh, bullocks,” Hermione said, still very much out of breath and perched on Draco’s lap. 

“He has, Mistress M-”

“Let him in then, will you?” Draco interrupted the house elf, fully aware of the fact that the creature wanted to address Hermione as “Mistress Malfoy.” His house  _ really  _ was subtle about its intentions. 

The black dog bolted towards Hermione, barely stopping before reaching her. 

“Hello, Theo! Did you miss me, pumpkin?” Lots of tail wagging followed. “I take it as a yes. And I brought you something,” she explained cheerfully. With a flick of her wrist, her bag flew towards her. Her hand disappeared in it only for a moment. “Look! Dried rumen!” The witch held a shrivelled piece of something with a disgusting smell in front of Theo’s nose.

The dog stood very still.

“How cute. He’s overwhelmed!” Hermione laughed, waving the thing back and forth. 

Draco had to bite the insides of his cheek to refrain from laughing. 

“Come on, pumpkin, you can take it. Maybe Blaise and Draco haven’t given you this yet? It’s okay, you’ll love it. All dogs love dried rumen.”

Theo still looked petrified. Finally, his eyes snapped to Draco who sensed his opportunity for a bit of revenge.

“Take it, Theo,” Draco taunted. “It’s impolite to deny gifts, and you won’t want to disappoint Hermione, _ do you _ ?”

With the speed of a snail, Theo peeled back his lips, exposing his impressive teeth. And very, very slowly, he took the smallest bite off the rumen still held by Hermione’s hand. As if under the Imperius, he chewed twice and swallowed the piece. 

“Good boy!” she praised. And a very reluctant tail wagging followed. 

Draco stepped outside, hastily excusing himself for a bathroom visit. Between the beginnings of an epic laughing fit, he heard Hermione saying, “Very well done. Now you can go and carry it to your favourite spot. Enjoy it.” 

Four paws rapidly tapping away were very clearly heard on the ancient wooden floor of the Manor.

* * *

The next morning started in bliss for Draco. He woke up with his arms full of Hermione, and after waking her up gently, they resumed the morning with a round of heavy snogging and a bit... more. 

Draco had the gut feeling his thoughts would circle all day around his vivid memory of her coming on his tongue. Not that he had anything important to do.

He had drawn the shortest straw in the Auror department week ago and was thus ‘chosen’ to attend a lecture at Oxford University about the history of Charms - a topic Hermione had literally written a book about. 

She, on the other hand, wanted to spend the day in the office, catching up with paperwork, and because it was a Tuesday, she had lunch with Potter on her schedule. Obviously, poor Theo likely felt so alone in the huge manor when Draco was at work, leading Hermione to convince Draco that the pet would benefit from her taking the dog to work with her. And since Harry still suffered from the (mutual) breakup with Ginny Weasley, the poor sod could use some puppy love and wouldn’t mind the pet’s company.

Just when he wanted to snort and make some derisive comment about Potter, Hermione pushed her lower lip forward and said, “Please,” in a tone he couldn’t believe how easily this Gryffindor could manipulate him. 

So he left his dog friend and his favourite witch at the Auror office and took the Portkey to the lecture. 

* * *

Tired, bored, and moody, Draco stepped through the Floo at Malfoy Manor. He was desperately looking forward to getting back to Hermione who had agreed to spend the evening with him. 

Only to be greeted by his mother.

She kissed him on both cheeks, ignoring his state. 

“Mother, what a pleasant surprise.”

His mother had met Hermione several times since they had started working together. But since the developments between the two of them were very new and very informal, he hadn’t introduced her formally yet.

Still, his mother didn’t seem surprised that the witch was in the ancient family home when she informed him, “Draco, Miss Granger is yelling at the dog in the yellow tea room. What did he do?” 

Oh no. Hermione would never yell at a creature if there wasn’t a good reason for it. And a good reason for yelling at Theo could only mean one thing. 

“Maybe he ate her reports?” he suggested. 

“In any case, you should calm her. She is cackling with irate magic already, and that makes her hair look quite-”

“I know, Mother,” Draco interrupted. “Thank you for your visit. Maybe you and Father want to come for tea on Sunday?” 

Narcissa gave him a small smile that told him she suspected something was amiss but would patiently hold off with her inquisition until Sunday.

After sending his mother through the Floo as quick as possible, he shrugged off his Auror robe, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and readied himself.

* * *

When Draco entered the yellow tea room, it was like stepping into a magical and emotional catharsis. Hermione stood in the centre of it, her curls having indeed escaped her ponytail long ago and fizzing with the amount of magic escaping her body. 

Stunning. 

Were it not for the fact that she had her arms and her wand stretched out towards the miserably looking Theo, he would have lost himself in the compliments he could bathe her in.

Apparently, she had grown aware of his presence, for she started lamenting without so much of a greeting, “ _ You! _ Did you know that about Theo?” she exclaimed. “All was well until Harry came for lunch. And Theo jumped straight on his lap. That alone isn’t remarkable, only a bit misbehaved, but I should have realised something was amiss when my best friend said, ‘Theo, eh? He really behaves like his namesake.’” 

She stretched her arms out to the sides, gesticulating wildly before she began to pace across the room. 

“That was cue number one if I think back to it. Following this scene in my office,” — she glared at Theo accusingly who had the decency to hide his snout between his front paws — “Harry and I went shopping for furniture because he needs some fresh start in his house since Ginny moved out. And because this little self-centered, four-legged creature with his head full of Hippogriff-shit has no self control, he nicked a little something.”

Draco wanted to interrupt that, strictly speaking, a dog couldn’t be acquitted for thievery, but he stopped himself and instead asked, “What did he steal? Was it shiny and expensive?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Not shiny, no. It was a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Dog Bone. Limited Edition. Worth a hundred Galleons.”

Not that Draco was surprised — the Every Flavour Beans had been Theo’s favourite sweet since he could chew. And, like most pureblood wizards, he had an excellent instinct for the exclusive and expensive.

“But what is more interesting is the fact that he left the shop without triggering the wards. Simply ran out. But educated people like us”—she pointed at Draco and herself, but not Theo—“know that high-end shops like Fawley’s Fantastic Furniture have heavy wards to prevent stealing; the only exception being the wealthy, traditional families that have an account that’s automatically charged when they leave.”

Draco groaned inwardly.

“The shopkeeper was giddy with sweetness because, ‘the pup’s cuteness even overrules powerful magic’.” Hermione stopped and glared at the dog. “Only that it didn’t! Because most surely, the Nott vault was charged the moment the Every Flavoured Bone left the building with little Theo.” 

Any other witch would’ve been blissfully ignorant of this small piece of information, but not her. Not his… not Hermione. 

She resumed pacing, and Draco knew she was preparing for the final strike.

“ _ That _ was cue number two,” she firmly announced. “But finally, Harry, Theo, and I went to lunch in a small pizzeria just outside of Diagon Alley, a place we visit frequently. The order came, and Harry, culturally ignorant as he is sometimes, threw tons of oregano  _ and _ parmesan on his Hawaiian pizza.” 

Potter really was a cretin at times, Draco thought to himself. 

“And do you know what dear Theo did?” 

Dreading the answer, Draco nevertheless shook his head. 

“He. Bloody. Sneezed.” 

Oh, bullocks.

“And the only being I’ve ever heard of, via your sympathetic, casual narration about the Italian Incident in 1996, that is allergic of the outrageous specific combination of oregano, parmesan, and pineapple, is-” 

“Theodore Nott,” Draco finished lamely for her. Of course this witch would actually listen to him, meaningless or not, because she was that special.

A triumphant gleam appeared on her face, and Draco was as aroused over her being  _ her _ as he was horrified. 

“Thank you for concluding clue number three for me, Draco,” Hermione said, spinning around and facing him. “So?” she asked expectantly.

“Would you like a glass of whiskey?” 

Hermione gawked. “I just told you I discovered your dog is one of your best friends!” 

“Yes, I heard that,” Draco dismissed with a smile. “And I am very impressed by your deduction skills, Mrs. Holmes.” 

He stepped closer, so close in fact that he could see her chest heaving. A lovely sight. But he needed to focus now. 

“But-” She poked his chest. 

“-But I also know you’re probably angry with me because I didn’t tell you,” he interrupted her. “That is why I am offering you a whiskey to calm down so I can tell you the entire story.” He glanced at the dog. “Are you alright with that, Theo?” 

Theo barked his assent.

Draco smirked and slipped his hand into Hermione’s, murmuring “Come with me, _ please _ ?” into her ear. 

She relaxed instantly. “You and your irresistible charm are my weakness, Draco Malfoy.” She pressed a kiss on his cheek, laughing lightly. “You better add a foot rub to your story and the whiskey, or you and Theo will share the sofa tonight.” 

With that, she winked and left the room, knowing perfectly well that he’d do everything for her. Draco sent a glare at the dog just because and followed her, a somehow relieved Theo in tow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra shout-out to LondonsLegend for making up the Every Flavour Bone! She's the best pup mummy ever!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this story I never expected all this lovely feedback. It makes a writer like me so very happy to know that someone likes their works or laugh reading it.
> 
> Alpha love for mcal, a true sunshine for me and so many people in the fandom!
> 
> Beta love to niffizzle and all the hugs for her patience and generosity.

A few days later, Hermione and Draco’s case load allowed them to work in private again. 

She walked in through the Floo this time; the reason for not Apparating was hugged firmly in her arms.

“We need to get to the root of Theo’s problem, and since we also want to work on the Black Widow case, I figured I’d spend more time here than at home, and you don’t mind, do you?” she prattled, her nervousness upon her ‘invasion’ apparent. 

Draco pressed a kiss onto her lips, withholding the fact that the Manor had procured an automatically refilling food and water bowl for her pet since that last time she had stayed overnight. 

“How is he with dogs?” Draco asked

Hermione actually winked at him. “It takes him a bit to get used to them. Let’s just say that Theo will appreciate the additional  _ running _ training once he’s back to his human form.” 

Draco laughed at that. He scratched the orange beast on her arms behind its ears, eliciting a loud purr. 

“He likes you,” she observed, tilting her head. “Usually, it takes him much longer to make friends.” 

“As it is, we Malfoys are traditionally more cat than dog people. Didn’t you see them in the portraits of my ancestors? There are a lot on the way to my private chambers.” 

“I am always a little preoccupied whenever I pass them.” She winked coyly at him. “At first, it was because I was still a bit wary of this building, but then, I was… distracted by its current heir. Especially the last time. Don’t you remember?” 

Oh, remember he did. As if the gorgeous blush on Hermione’s cheeks wasn’t enough reminder of the naughtiness. 

He had taken her there, in the corridor, against the wall. Not the most romantic way for a first time with a woman for sure, but things had escalated quickly. She had looked up at him, eyes dark with arousal and curls wild and begged, “Please, Draco. I need you now. Here.” 

He had cast a strong contraception charm and went for it. The portraits had been conspicuously silent through it all. 

Needless to say, she had spent the night in his bed again.

He returned to the present when Hermione suggested, “Let’s do something fun tonight.” 

Draco started to smirk devilishly. Since she had entered the library,  _ his _ library, for the first time, he’d had a deep urge to place her hands against one of the shelves, slowly divest her of her clothes, and when she was panting and moaning, he’d- 

“Research sprints!” She produced two charts from her overnight bag. His smirk evaporated. “Here, I prepared these with all the information we already have.” 

That certainly wasn’t what he had in mind. 

Still, she continued, “We’re spending ninety minutes on research on the Black Widow case, have a short break of ten minutes, and then ninety minutes of research on Theo’s furry little problem. This way, we can work through both cases in one evening.” 

He was weak upon Hermione’s huge brown eyes that shone with nerdy excitement, so he nodded automatically. 

* * *

When Theo joined them an hour later, slightly panting probably due to some cat-related running, the pair had already dived deeply into the historical sources the Malfoy library provided. Just barely, Draco noticed that Theo plopped down ungracefully between their feet. 

As Hermione had proposed, they had indeed started with the Black Widow case. The puzzle began to come together, as the colour-coded chart next to the fireplace visualised, but they still lacked the final piece. 

“Alright, we already know that it isn’t just one witch, but rather different women in different generations that are called the Black Widow. Though, they are named that by the behavioural pattern they show: a very wealthy man, a wizard in most cases, is falling head over heels in love with a beautiful woman. The families and friends of the man are surprised at the suddenness of love and wedding.” She gestured at Draco’s lap, who precariously balanced an ancestor’s diary on it he carefully deciphered. The writer had mentioned a family friends who had fallen victim to the Black Widow. But not only that: seeing as the Malfoys maintained relationships to many prominent pureblood families, such as the Shacklebolts, the Blacks, and even the Potters over the centuries, they could counter check no less than five cases of Black Widows over the span of five centuries.

Draco nodded and continued her summary. “The man seems to be acting like himself, except for when he is in the woman’s company or talking about something related to her.”

“This leads us to the conclusion that the woman either uses mind control by Legilimency or Imperius or something object related with the same intention.”

“I think we can rule out the former.” Draco shrugged. “Too many purebloods are trained in Occlumency, and the Imperius curse is too modern. It could be something similar, but my gut feeling says it’s object related.”

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. “Gut feeling? That’s not-”

“If you say my gut feeling is too nebulous and probably just an empty stomach, I am going to tickle you until you cry!” Draco threatened, having heard this retaliation all too often from Hermione. But his instincts almost always prove to be correct, and, what amused him deeply, he had never had a retaliation so effective like this one. It paid to have a bossy partner/girlfriend that was very ticklish.

Hermione threw her hands up in defense. “That’s not far away, was what I  _ wanted _ to say, but you insisted on being difficult!” She grinned, and pulled another diary from the stack resting beside her. “I found several hints that surmise that the Black Widows associated with an artifact, an object. But this ancestor of yours seemed to have paid quite some attention to the details to a certain witch. He describes how he had seen her accompanying another man to a ball, and from what I can deduce, this man is the same wizard who not too long later became a victim of the myths that would soon become the Black Widow. That is, if the information provided in the Shacklebolt diary is as correct as historical sources can be.”

Draco leaned forward, tickling Hermione’s side just enough to make her squeal. 

“Stop it!” she commanded, giggling. “The woman is described as a witch of stunning beauty with elegantly braided hair and piercing green eyes. But what the writer finds most remarkable is her jewelry. ‘ _ On a thin, golden chain hung a fascinating pendant. Simply round in its form, it had an eerie beauty and emerald in its center emitted a slight glow just like the crest of Salazar Slytherin himself.’ _ ”

Theo barked. 

“I agree. The choice of words is a bit dramatic, but it could be what we’re looking for. It sounds as if this pendant has the potential to be the cursed object.”

Theo barked again at Hermione’s words. 

“Theodore, what can you possibly want now?” Draco asked, a bit irritated. 

The dog jumped onto the couch, forcing himself in between Draco and Hermione. When he had accomplished that, he lay down on Hermione’s lap, his nose on the diary in her hands. 

“Oh, Theo! You’re not getting a belly rub from me anymore, and you know that.” 

He huffed.

“And take your nose off of the book! You’re going to get it all wet!” Hermione chastised. 

Another huff, more insistent this time. But the nose remained were it was. 

Draco took a closer look at where exactly his friend had placed his snout.

“Oh, fuck,” he cursed quietly but whole-heartedly.

“What?” 

“Theoretically speaking, what do you think happens when the Widow is met with resistance? For example, when a man isn’t open for her advances, or any other woman’s for that matter?”

Hermione tilted her head, pondering Draco’s question. “If a wizard is homosexual is what you mean, right?” He nodded. “Taking into consideration that this witch’s motive is either revenge or greed, I’d say she would curse or jinx said man in some form. Maybe add a bit of time-lag to it to make it look inconspicuous.” Her gaze connected with Draco’s. “Why?”

Draco had to wait three seconds for the shoe to drop. 

“Oh.  _ Oh _ !” Hermione looked at Theo. “That explains so much!” She took the dog’s snout in her hands and lifted his head slightly. “That’s what happened to you. Is that correct?”

Theo whimpered.

“Harry?”

The dog sighed. 

“It’s not a taboo among the pureblood circles, at least not when an heir is conceived or even adopted,” Draco explained. “But Theo has never made it public knowledge.”

“And it also isn’t public knowledge that one reason behind Ginny and Harry’s break-up is that he wants to explore his sexuality now that he has admitted to himself that he’s bi,” Hermione returned, a smile on her face. 

Theo made a sound somewhere between a bark and jowl that made Hermione laugh loudly. She kissed his head, and Draco thought his heart might burst — a heart he didn’t even know he had for far too many years. 

“First things first, Theo!” she chided the dog. “Before you can go and chase for a certain Auror, we need to get rid of your disposition.”

Draco nodded at that. “You need to confirm if what we suspect is correct so far. You met a woman who tried to win you over. She was pretty and wore this remarkable emerald pendant. Bark once for yes.”

One bark, confident and short.

“You rejected her — tactfully, I hope — but she threw a fit over it. And then, she cursed you.”

Theo whimpered. 

“Be precise, Theodore!” Hermione challenged, and a bark followed. “The Animagus charm was probably the third or seventh spell you cast after that encounter, correct? More likely the seventh because that would put more time between the casting of the curse and whatever magic you worked. And if my suspicions are correct, to cause the seventh spell or charm last permanently, it had likely been a day or more since the encounter.”

As if sensing Draco’s question, she said, “The average number of spells and such that a person casts on an average basis isn’t as high one might expect. That’s because the environment of wizards and witches, especially those of pureblood ancestry, is highly magical itself. House elves, in-built cleaning charms, self-washing dishes.” 

Draco stored this information away for later because it really was fascinating to him. 

She made an impatient hand gesture. “Never mind, that’s not what is of interest now. This is going to take a while, so maybe I could get something to drink?”

Before Draco could react, a house elf appeared out of thin air.

“Hi! That was fast,” Hermione greeted the creature. “If you were so kind, would you bring us a strong black tea?”

“Of course, Mistress. A strong whiskey, too?” 

“That would be nice. Maybe a-” 

The house elf disappeared, only to return two seconds later, a tray full of steaming tea and a whisky decanter with glasses balanced on his hands. 

“Dead Dragon?” she finished. 

Draco inhaled sharply when he could make out the moment she realized that the elf had brought her that exact brand.

The elf disappeared again, and Hermione looked at him curiously. 

“How did it know my favourite brand of whisky?“

Draco really didn’t know exactly. Then again, he hadn’t had time to look into this particular magic either. Instead, he mocked, “Maybe I‘m muttering in my sleep how disappointed I am that your favourite whisky has an ambivalent meaning for a wizard with my name?“ 

She leaned back and laughed. 

Before she could further the topic, however, Draco insisted on continuing their research. “Alright, we have wasted enough time with incessant chatter. Let’s work on turning Theo back to his usual charming form.“

Hermione nodded and fetched the charts. “Just for the record, you don’t talk in your sleep. You make cute little noises of contentment, and sometimes, you snore a bit.“

Theo made a sound that could only be interpreted as a laugh.

* * *

It took them a while to figure things out, what with only barks and whines and desperate puppy eyes, but when they went to bed, utterly exhausted, Hermione and Draco had a more precise idea about who the culprit was. 

And with the information provided by an “anonymous” source, Aurors Granger and Malfoy could officially investigate what they had half-privately worked on. Theo could narrow down two events where he had met the woman. One had been a charity event for the newly created Department of Education and Knowledge, during which she had flirted with him quite harmlessly, but heavy enough to find out he was from a family of old money. The second had been a fundraiser for the Mini-Quidditch league, who was in need for toddler a safe pitch. There, Harry had also been present, and Theo had been distracted by the supposed Black Widow ogling him. After declining her advances first very politely, then with more emphasis, things had escalated in an empty hallway.

So all they had to do was cross-check the lists of those invited to the two events and rule out those who weren’t possibly responsible for the cursing, like Neville’s grandmother Augusta Longbottom. 

From there, it was only a matter of days before they arrested the witch disguising herself behind the name Black Widow. She wasn’t someone who had ever caught the Ministry’s attention: Christine Lacroix had attended Beauxbaton, was of the same age as Theo, and even had been at Hogwarts when the Triwizard Tournament had gone spectacularly wrong. She came from a stable, half-British background. 

But, as they found out when they interrogated her, she had had a bit of bad luck with the wizards she had dated in the past. One had broken up with her days before the wedding, another had first dated her, then married her sister, and her most recent boyfriend had cheated on her with her best female friend. It wasn’t that she had a horrible personality behind her beautiful looks, just… bad luck. So when she had spent a few months with her English grandmother, she had found the pendant with a parchment explaining what it did when activated and decided she needed revenge.

It was said parchment that Hermione had placed carefully on the table in the library, surrounded by several old books and rolls of parchment. 

Theo rested on the sofa nearby, his gaze resting on the brunette witch expectantly. 

“Isn’t this the part where we contact the Department of Mysteries or Charms Development?” Draco asked.

Hermione drily replied, “Sure, if you are keen on bringing Theo to the Ministry, having him examined from his fluffy bat ears to his adorable paws, and have him tested with several basic reversal magic I am most certain won’t work, then go ahead.” 

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“No, Draco, do it. I spent my most pleasant hours of fifth year in the Department of Mysteries.” 

“I get it,” he conceded. “We shouldn’t involve any more parties if we want to keep Theo out of the public eye.”

“You’re  _ so _ smart,” Hermione teased and laughed when Draco punished her by grabbing her from behind and tickling her. 

Turning serious again, he nudged her cheek with his nose once and held her close. “You can do it? You can reverse it? I mean, I’d rather have a very human-like Labrador than anything happening to Theo.”

“I know.” She pressed a kiss on his cheek and stepped out of his embrace. “And yes, it’s tricky, I won’t deny that. But some of your library’s books on the history of Charms and Transfiguration were really helpful, even if they are a bit… shady in some parts.”

“You don’t say. I spent my most pleasant hours of seventh year trapped in my own house due to my family’s involvement in such ‘shadiness.’” 

His comeback only elicited an eye roll from Hermione, proving again how far they all had come post-War. 

Theo gave an impatient growl, reminding them of his presence and the reason why they were there in the first place. 

“Okay, we basically need to summon magic related to  _ Finite _ or  _ Priori Incantatem _ , a reverse spell, directed at a very distinctive point and curse in the past. Like  _ Priori _ , it is additionally bound to an object.” She retrieved the emerald pendant from its security container. Christine hadn’t been very happy to surrender the item.

“So you are using the pendant to define the spell you want to reverse.”

She hummed an agreement. “It sounds simple, but it is challenging to dismantle the layers of protection on the object, as well as following the magic back to its roots, if you will.” Checking an ancient looking tome for the last time, Hermione began waving her wand in an intricate pattern. 

Draco hated to be so passive. But he knew he couldn’t do more at the moment than observe how Hermione moved her wand between the pendant and Theo, sometimes drawing wisps of residual power from them both. 

The dog lay there very still, his eyes resting on the fabulous witch.

An undefined amount of time later, he squeaked and jumped from the sofa.

“I think I found it.” Hermione said and spoke one, clear, “ _ Finite! _ ” into the space of the library.

In the end, it was very unspectacular. A small crack, and Theo stood before them in his human form. 

Stark naked. 

“Wow. I really don’t know how this happened. He transformed with his clothes on, so theoretically, they should still be there,” Hermione commented and immediately averted her eyes, much to Draco’s amusement. 

After all, he had seen Theo in his birthday suit during more occasions than he’d like and wasn’t perturbed by his nudity. 

“I need a drink,” was what Theo said first, his voice raspy and husky. A bit wobbly on his reduced number of legs, he walked over to the ever present whisky decanter and helped himself to a glass. After he had swallowed the contents down with one gulp, he stretched out his arms with a relieved grin. “Hermione, I am so unbelievably thankful,” he said gleefully to the witch in question, who tried very hard to pretend he was fully clothed. 

Draco chuckled, his heart light. However, when Theo stepped towards her to give her a hug, he intervened. Homosexual or not, decency dictated Theo wore some clothes when he hugged Hermione. So he conjured a fluffy, white bathrobe and practically threw it over his friends body. Just in time before Theo enveloped Hermione in a bear hug, making the witch squeal and laugh.

He clapped his friend on the shoulder, knowing he’d be the next to embrace. “Welcome back, Theo.” An endlessly thankful sob was his answer. 

* * *

They decided to hold a celebration to “welcome back Theo from his exotic business trip.” Blaise very loudly declared his thanks to Draco for taking care of his dog while he had been busy, and everyone had a very good time. 

It was that evening Draco and Hermione made their relationship public. Not with a huge announcement — instead they simply added a bit more to the friendly affection they had gotten used to display. Draco simply kept his arm around her, kissed her cheek, or rested his hands on her waist. She casually took his wand from the holster in his sleeve and levitated a tray of snacks onto a table. Their “confession” earned them some whispers, but only in the way friends and colleagues reacted when a couple had formed among them. 

And then there was Harry.

“Does that mean the four of us are going to spend our pizza lunches together now?” he asked.

“What do you mean, the four of us?” Draco inquired, his arms around Hermione who was sitting on his lap comfortably. 

“Well, I think the dog quite enjoyed the lunch last time, so it would be you, Hermione, me, and adorable Theo.”

Theo, sitting next to Harry, almost choked on his drink. 

Realising what he had said, Hermione’s best friend blushed heavily. As did Theo.

“I think that’s a fabulous idea. But maybe you are taking the human Theo on that lunch date instead?” Hermione grinned. 

Harry nodded, beet red, Theo hid his grin behind a small cucumber sandwich, and Draco smirked openly. “That’s only logical.”

* * *

“I’ve been thinking,” Hermione began when they lay in bed later that night, still a bit sweaty from their previous activities. 

“Merlin, have you really?” Draco teased, laughing when she pinched the naked skin just below his ribs.

“In one of the books from the library I read about Theo’s curse, there was a short chapter about warding magic. Or rather, what happens when said wards are ignored. For example, when one Apparates in.”

“Interesting.” Draco hoped, to no avail, she’d let the topic rest now.

“I Apparated in. And I am definitely not covered in pest boils or lacking any limbs. Nor did I find myself in Norway.”

“Indeed.”

“So why didn’t the wards so much as tickle?“ 

Draco sighed. It hadn’t been his plan to add this much seriousness to their still young relationship. “Don’t freak out now. But apparently, Malfoy Manor has chosen you to be the next Missus Malfoy.“

“What?“ She sat up abruptly, exposing her naked body to the cool night air.

Obviously, he needed to explain. “It has happened in the past. Especially when times had been unstable and the family was on the verge of destruction.“

“Your house wants us to marry? And produce little blond heirs?“

“Yes,” he admitted. “I know it’s way too early to even consider steps like that, and it’s not as if the house would force us to do it.”

Draco practically saw the thinking process going on in Hermione’s perfect brain. He hadn’t really known what to expect.

Giving a decisive nod, Hermione settled back into his side. 

“Marrying, having children… that’s not something I want to consider for some years to come.”

Draco smiled. “And in the meantime, you enjoy the Manor’s advances?”

“I’d rather enjoy your advances, Draco.” He chuckled, feeling content and happy. “Maybe we should get a dog? An entirely canine one this time? Or a second cat?”

“Missing a second pet to spoil now that Theo isn’t a dog anymore?”

“Oh, trust me, I am going to continue spoiling Theo.” She smirked and pressed her lips against Draco’s. 

He smiled into the kiss, knowing that whatever mischief Hermione planned, he would be by her side for the long haul. 

* * *

True to her promise, Hermione brought Theo little gifts every time they met. Sometimes, it was only a handful of dog treats. Sometimes, it was a piece of dried rumen. On Christmas and on Theo’s birthday, it was always an Every Flavour Bone. 


End file.
